An hour before the strike in Shelton.
Aron walked through the hatch into the underground facility constructed by Jason and Catherine. He looked around in approval, thinking, ‘This is a good aesthetic, but it needs a little something... extra.’
He gestured for his escort to halt, then bent down and, perhaps in a fit of chuunibyo, clapped his hands and placed them on the ground. Unseen by his unblessed escort, a runic circle spread out from his hands and the floor, walls, and ceiling began changing. Line after line dug itself through the imperial steel alloy structure, leaving behind a mystifying, maze-like pattern.
The lines etched themselves throughout the entire base for an entire five minutes before the etching process was completed. Once they stopped, the runic circle under Aron’s hands began pulsing like a heartbeat, each pulse coming faster and faster as the process continued. Finally, the pulse was so fast it appeared that it was a solid light, then rune after rune flew out of it, traveling down the etched corridors in runic sentences like obedient soldiers marching in files.
It took another twenty minutes for the runic imprinting process to complete while Aron and his escort stood motionless at the end of the southern main walkway. Then his runic heart sped up as intent-laden mana flooded out of it, down his arms, out of his palms, and into the engraved runes, turning them white as the intent passed through them.
Another ten minutes passed before the process was complete. Aron rose to his feet and looked at the glowing, circuit-like pattern etched in the wall with satisfaction. He dusted his hands and said, “Let’s go.”
Jason and Catherine, having long shed their cover identities as Timothy and Siobhan Roberts, exchanged a glance before Catherine asked, “Pardon my curiosity, Your Majesty, but... what’s that?” She pointed at the wall, which was faintly glowing even to her, who had yet to awaken at all.
“That?” Aron looked at her and grinned. “Just decoration. You can’t have high tech without glowy bits, Miss O’Shaugnessy.”
Catherine froze, her mind practically broken at the thought of the emperor of all humanity doing something so... so whimsical. She wasn’t quite sure how she should react and her brain was on the verge of a shutdown.
[Sigh, you’ll get used to him,] Nyx’s voice whispered in Catherine’s “ear” through her implant.
At heart, Aron was still young, and he did occasionally act his age.
Catherine jogged and caught up to the rest of the group as they entered the control room at the center of the underground facility.
“Status report,” Aron ordered, any trace of whimsy absent from his face as if it had never been there.
“Approximately twenty-five minutes ago, the cult leader in the HPMA received a warning from the cultists in the town. He’s been gathering the residents in the community center building here,” Jason said, pointing to a flashing red dot on the detailed topographical map floating above the main command terminal. “We expect the entire community will be there within another ten minutes from... now.”
Catherine took over and said, “The demographic breakdown of the community suggests that we’ll be facing anywhere from twenty to twenty-five awakeners. We can’t be sure what affinities they’ve awakened, but the odds are that they’ll either be elementalists or derived elementalists, so we should be prepared for that.
“It’s extremely unlikely that there will be any law or higher awakeners, as this is just a small cultist base in the grand scheme of things, and we believe they’ve been moving their high-powered ‘guns’ to their main base in preparation for whatever they’re planning.”
“Do you have any plans for handling them?” Aron asked.
“Overwhelming force,” Jason grinned, “and an extreme technological advantage.”
Aron nodded. “Continue.”
“There’s about 440 residences in Hartstene Pointe, and over the past few months, the Hartstene Pointe Maintenance Association has been helping the cult forcibly buy out the residents that previously lived here. They first started by purchasing all of the vacant properties after the people that used to live in them sold them following their registration as imperial citizens. Then they moved to more overt tactics, like seizing the vacation homes that were unoccupied due to the season.
“About six months ago, they brought in... undesirables, and started being more blatant about their goal—”
“Undesirables?” Aron cut in. “What do you mean by that?”
“Well, Your Majesty, Washington has a high number of seasonal migrant workers that get hired by the parks to clean them up in preparation for opening. And a lot of those people are seen by the more affluent members as ‘undesirable’, meaning they would feel uncomfortable with them moving into a protected, gated community like Hartstene Pointe.
“Then, all the cult had to do was raise the petty crime rate and those rich shitheads couldn’t flee their gated compound fast enough.” Jason pretended to spit on the ground at the thought.
“Understood, continue,” Aron said, a similar look of disgust on his face.
“So they raised the crime rate and the HPMA pretended to be helpless. They offered to assist in listing and selling the remaining homes, and the entire takeover was complete a month and a half ago,” Jason finished.
“Since then, they chased out the migrant workers with the assistance of the chief of police and the judges at the courthouse,” Catherine said. “And we’ve been tracking them since. Every ‘resident’ here at Hartstene Pointe has a tracker embedded in them.” She pointed at the map and all of the trackers were displayed on it, moving toward the clubhouse in real time. About twenty of them were headed in the opposite direction, toward Indian Cove Marina.
Aron looked at his emperor’s aegis team leader and said, “Collect the runners and bring them here. Quietly. And don’t be seen.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” the aegis team leader said, then the team moved out.
“It’s a shame Rina isn’t here,” Aron sighed after his emperor’s aegis left.
Jason and Catherine traded glances, then Catherine asked, “Your Majesty?”
“You need four people to play spades, and there’s only three of us here.”
Neither of the operatives knew what to say to that and were dumbstruck, caught between laughter and tears.
......
Commander Yamaguchi Takeyama and his team reached the marina and hid themselves, waiting for the fleeing cultists to arrive. By his estimate, they would have about a seven minute wait.
Eight minutes later, the first fleeing cultist came into view. Takeyama shook his head and gestured to the aegis member nearest the cultist to take action. Soon, the cultist was rendered unconscious and disappeared into the shadow beneath a decorative hedge.
The process repeated itself until seventeen cultists were captured.
Takeyama looked up and asked the air, “Update, Overwatch?”
[No escapees remaining, Captain,] the AI reported.
“Roger that, we’re headed back to base.”
[Copy, return to base. Overwatch out.]
